I got another "I am human" moment to add to my list.
Last night, I ate terrible spaghetti, and even worse salad, all in the name of fundraising for my son's baseball league. I am not really complaining about the food here, it is always awful and I enjoy it anyway. I am even glad I went because it is sort of a yearly ritual that lets me see friends and be silly. I kinda love it. Here is the kicker for me though: my children's father and the woman he is currently married to decided that this would be a good time to be supportive and family oriented. Barf.
Now up here on my high road, I can be supportive of their decision to help fund youth sports. It is a public event, and well, they can spend their money and time anyway they want to. I can even be grateful that he shows up at all to anything involving my children, and don't hold any grudges at all about his/their participation. But, with that said, the phrase "Oh Hell NO, I am not fucking sitting with them!" passed through my head. Even when they sat with my parents. Even when they tried to hold my place in line. Even when my children sat with them. I mean, it was his visitation night, he purchased their dinner, and the kids sitting with him was exactly what I expected. Did that mean I had to sit with them, and play nice? In my mind I don't think so.
So I didn't. I didn't sit with my parents. I didn't sit with my kids. I sat, instead, with my friends and fellow baseball parents, many of whom I had known for years, even some since childhood. I had a great time, laughing, joking, catching up. It was fun. I paid absolutely no attention to my ex, his wife, or, consequently, my parents and children for about an hour. It was fine.
What happened on the way home is my "less-than-super-mom" moment. My daughter said she didn't eat dinner. I was surprised since I had seen her in line to get food, had seen her sit down with the same plate of food in front of her, and had watched as she threw her plate in the garbage. I asked her why? She said she waited for me to come sit next to her and everyone, and that when I didn't she didn't eat. I told her, with a soft tone at first, that I was not going to come sit with her dad and his wife, ever, and that I was fine that she did, and she could have eaten her dinner without me. She wanted to know why I wouldn't come sit with them, since she (the wife) was not being mean right then. This is when I lost it. I said that I can't pretend and play nice with a woman who called me a fucking worthless bitch in front of my kids, and then told me I deserved to have my baby die in a follow up email.
My daughter was floored. My son was silent. I was pissed. So I went on a bit of a rant. I told them that I don't really care how "not mean" the ex's wife was being right then. She had already shown me who she is, and I don't want to be near her. I didn't care if she turned out to receive the Nobel Peace prize for her amazing work with the sick and homeless. I didn't care if she was angelic and nominated for sainthood. My experience of her is that she is vile and cruel. And that I never, not ever ever ever wanted to be around her, hear her, interact with her, or otherwise be in any setting where she existed. That she had crossed a line by being so vicious to me on more than one occasion that the cease and desist letter that was sent through the Domestic Violence center telling her in very plain language that I wanted her to stay out of my life forever would be my M.O. for all time. I would treat her as a non-person, not in my field of vision, non-existent and not even worthy of my sitting at a table eating crappy spaghetti, even if it meant I missed out on something.
After my rant, I cried. I did not apologize, but I did cook my daughter some dinner. I spent another half hour texting friends, ratting myself out like some catholic school-girl, seeking validation, and a little understanding. I got it, so a shout-out goes to JB and RA and BE and SC for keeping me sane.
This morning the kids and I talked, some about my emotions, and a lot about how when people in your life show you who they are, you should believe them the first time. And that it was what I had done with their dad's current wife. We talked about being fake for show, and how that doesn't really count if you are still mean behind closed doors. They "got it" immediately because they visit their dad and his wife twice a month and had seen the real side just the same. We talked about picking who you respect, and about standing up for yourself, and about not being fake yourself just to put on a show for others. Yep, I might have been angry, but I was not going to play nice just to have other people feel better. I had done that for too long, and just don't feel up for it. We laughed a lot during the conversation because, of course, all of our important conversations happen while we are half naked trying to get out the door in the morning. It is amazing the things you learn over getting dressed, packing up homework, and apparently spaghetti.
So today, I am back on my high road. Happy for a guard rail, and willing to take the hit for my momentary exit. One of my friends helped me by saying "Stay Real. The kids will find their own path." That is where I am at today. I am good with it.
